


the how and the when and the roughness baby

by threerings



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Biting, But it has some hope!, Canon Non-Binary Character, Dom Peter Nureyev, Dom/sub, Messy damn relationship, Other, Peter is a gentle Dom, Reunion Fic, Reunion Sex, Spanking, Sub Juno Steel, smut and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threerings/pseuds/threerings
Summary: "Peter’s eyes were hungry, his lips curved up in a hint of a cocky smirk.  It reminded Juno so strongly of how he’d been when they first knew each other, before they were buried alive in a tomb together, before things got terribly, horribly messy.  Something about Peter’s manner, the way he was taking control, it set Juno at ease.  He wasn’t usually someone to obey orders, but right now the last thing he wanted was to have to make a single decision."





	the how and the when and the roughness baby

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in an amorphous future point, when Juno and Peter run into one another again, probably in the middle of a messy case. My brain likes to leave things open and vague in hopes of slotting neatly into future canon (which will almost certainly not happen.) This is the first time they've been alone since reuniting, in a hotel room during a brief lull in the action.

Peter Nureyev sat across from him in the nondescript hotel room. Juno sat on the edge of the bed, looking at anything on the far wall that wasn’t Peter. He could feel Peter’s bright gaze on him, though, he just couldn’t work up the courage to meet it. There was so much that needed to be said, but he didn’t have a clue how to begin.

“Well, this is awkward,” said Nureyev, his tone light and slightly ironic. Despite the aching familiarity of the teasing tone, it didn’t cut the tension between them. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, eyes barely flickering past the figure in the chair. The silence that fell once more felt heavier, and it seemed like Peter was waiting for him to start. Great. 

“Nureyev,” he began, his voice sounding all kinds of wrong. “I...I’m sorry. For what I did.” He shrugged, bringing up a hand to rub at his face. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry.” 

He finally risked a glance up. Peter’s face wore a slight frown, a strained expression, his eyes sad. He took a long breath in and out. It looked like he might be about to speak, and suddenly Juno had to beat him to it. “So just...be as mad at me as you want. You have every right. I deserve it.”

Peter met his eyes and his frown deepened. “I’m not angry with you, Juno.” 

Juno gave a dry huff of disbelief. “Why not? You should be.”

“I was.” Nureyev sighed. “I tried to be, for a while. But the truth is I...I wasn’t that surprised that you left.” The words hit Juno like a blow, and he winced, looking back down at his knees and his hands clenched into fists on top of them. “I just wish you would have...talked to me.” And he ducked his head further down.

“I know,” he choked out, quietly. “I should have. I know I should have. I wish I had...” He trailed off as his throat tightened. He forced himself to take a breath. “I couldn’t leave with you. But I should have talked to you first.”

And that felt like maybe enough to say. His words lingered, the tension and emotion radiating off both of them hanging in the air, thick like steam. But he’d said what he had to say, or enough of it maybe. Maybe as much as he could. Now it was up to Peter what happened next. 

There was a long silence, where the only sound was their breathing. When the seconds ticked into minutes, finally Juno lifted his eyes. Peter looked back, as if evaluating. “Do you want me to go?” asked Juno, not sure which response he was more afraid of. 

“No,” said Peter without hesitation. Something curled in Juno’s gut, something dark and needy. “You know, I tried a lot of things to get over you,” added Peter casually. “But you’re still in my head, under my skin, no matter what I do.” 

Juno felt flayed to the bone by the offhand way Nureyev confessed something like that. Something that so precisely matched his own feelings. “Yeah,” he agreed with a hint of a laugh. “Yeah, me too.” Something sparked in Peter’s eyes and he stood suddenly. He took one careful, slow step toward the bed and then paused, his legs inches from Juno’s knees. Juno didn’t move a muscle, afraid to do the wrong thing. After an unnaturally long pause, Peter sank onto the bed next to him, very nearly brushing against his hip.

He was closer than he’d been since they were reunited, and Juno’s head swam with the smell of him, the heat he imagined he could feel coming off his body. He was so close, and Juno’s heart pounded in his chest like a terrified animal. He wanted. He wanted so much. But he had absolutely no right to want. He should chase Peter off, warn him, run away, anything. But he just sat there, frozen. 

“I tried to forget that night, lose it in the arms of others,” said Peter, his voice just above a whisper. Juno nodded. “Didn’t work. It just made it worse.” 

Juno nodded again, still staring resolutely at his own hands where they bunched his trousers up. He gave a dry laugh. “I couldn’t even get hard,” he whispered. He heard a sharp inhale from Peter, and then a hand touched his upper arm. He shuddered, hard. Then all at once Peter was pulling him around towards him, hands gripping his shoulders hard, their faces tilting together automatically, mouths seeking, then pressing together. 

It almost didn’t qualify as a kiss, it was so hard, so desperate, so jerky and sudden. Peter’s lips met his with bruising force and he shuddered again, violently. Their fingers dug into each other and Peter’s arms encircled him in an embrace that felt more like grappling than romance. 

If he didn’t sob against Peter’s lips it was only because he couldn’t get enough air to make a sound. After a few moments they tumbled onto their sides, then Peter was pressing him to the mattress. He got a hold on Juno’s wrists and pressed them up to either side of his head. When his long body ground down against Juno, he couldn’t hold back a moan. Peter could have anything he wanted, he decided. He would do anything. Anything and everything for Peter. 

Peter kissed him until his lips were swollen and they were both gasping for air. He could feel the distinct outline of a hard cock against his own when Peter ground down. It was something of a disappointment when he rolled off Juno and released his wrists. Juno lay stunned, catching his breath, as Peter watched him from where he lay on his side, head propped up on one hand. 

When Juno finally looked over to him, he saw an expression almost predatory on Peter’s face. This was entirely unlike the night they’d shared after the business with Miasma, when Peter had treated him with exaggerated reverence and care. Juno wasn’t sure, but he thought he might actually like this better. He certainly felt more at ease with Peter looking at him like he was a meal. 

After a significant period of silence while they watched each other, Juno worked up the courage to speak. “What do you want?” he asked quietly, hoping the offer was evident in his voice. Peter watched him a few moments more, eyes searching his face. 

“Take off my shoes for me, will you Juno, dear?” he asked finally, voice relaxed and smooth. Juno blinked for a second, almost opening his mouth to make a sarcastic reply, but he stopped himself. Peter’s eyes were so intent on him, and Juno felt a strange calm settle in his gut. 

He pushed himself up and slid down to the foot of the bed where Peter’s feet were hanging off the edge. He was wearing a pair of stylish heeled boots, the square heels practical enough to run in if necessary, but the complicated straps and buckles running across the arch of the foot screaming money. He reached to the first buckle, working the straps loose one by one. When he freed Peter’s foot he couldn’t resist holding it for a second, stroking down the top of it with one hand for just a moment. Something about this felt so intimate that Juno felt like the one exposed by it.

Before he could make a fool of himself over the man’s foot, however, he dropped it and moved to repeat the task on the second boot. When he was done, Peter didn’t say anything, so Juno pushed himself up from where he was crouched on the floor and sat back on the bed.

“Now, darling, take off your own shoes...and everything else, if you would.” Juno’s heart thumped. His cock twitched and a flood of warmth spread down his spine. Peter’s smooth drawl almost seemed to wrap around him, his words echoing in his ears and he thought they might be the most erotic thing he’d ever heard. There was also a part of him that was cheering in celebration. Peter wanted him. He wanted him naked. That was surely a victory. “Juno?” called Peter from where he still lounged above him on the bed. He sounded a little less confident, a little more concerned.

“Oh, uh, right,” Juno stammered and shook himself. He hurried to obey, pulling his worn shoes from his feet and kicking them against the wall. He stripped off his socks, shirt, and undershirt just as quickly. Then he stood to remove his pants, turning to face the bed before he did. For the first time he felt the full weight of Peter’s gaze on him, on his bare chest, on the obvious tent in his trousers. Peter’s eyes were hungry, his lips curved up in a hint of a cocky smirk. It reminded Juno so strongly of how he’d been when they first knew each other, before they were buried alive in a tomb together, before things got terribly, horribly messy. Something about Peter’s manner, the way he was taking control, it set Juno at ease. He wasn’t usually someone to obey orders, but right now the last thing he wanted was to have to make a single decision.

He unbuckled his belt and opened the front of his pants easily, letting them fall and pushing his underwear after them. He stood still, his erection bobbing slightly, letting Peter look his fill, waiting. Peter took his time, his eyes raking up and down the full length of his body several times. “Come here,” he said finally, his words sounding thick. So Juno did, crawling up the bed to him. 

“Now,” he said once Juno was kneeling over him. “Undress me.” Juno hoped it wasn’t noticeable that his hands were shaking as he reached for the buttons of Peter’s shirt. They were so close again and Peter’s eyes were fixed on his face. He worked the buttons open as best he could, only fumbling a little. Inch by inch he exposed the skin of Peter’s chest, the smooth, creamy planes of him, unblemished, perfect. The backs of his fingers brushed the soft skin as he worked, only slightly intentionally. He finished with the buttons and pulled back his hands, sitting back and looking to Peter for further direction. He could easily imagine the normal thing to do, which would be to press his lips to his chest, trace patterns with his hands, to tease and taste as he eased the shirt off his shoulders. But normal was far from whatever this was, and Juno couldn’t take the initiative. It would be wrong, somehow. 

After a second of stillness, Peter unbuttoned his cuffs and pulled his shirt off the rest of the way himself, his eyes constantly reverting to Juno’s face, still watching, still evaluating. Then he lay back down and gestured to his belt with a vague hand. Juno leaned forward again and set to work unfastening his belt and pants. He avoided brushing against the obvious bulge as much as possible, though when he lowered the zipper it was unavoidable to a certain extent. He glanced back up for final permission, which he received in the form of a tiny nod. He tugged off Peter’s trousers and underwear at the same time, focusing his attention on getting the clothing off his legs neatly, rather than on the long expanse of skin he revealed. But once Peter was bare, he couldn’t help looking back up those long, long legs. His mind flashed to what it felt like to have those legs wrapped around him and his breathing grew more shallow. 

His eyes moved past Peter’s elegant cock, up his trim waist and well-defined torso, finally coming to rest on his face. Peter watched him with a soft expression, an expression Juno hadn’t seen for so long. “Come here,” he said, with a crook of his finger, his voice silken and soft. Juno almost made a needy sound in his throat, but just held it back. Instead he crawled carefully back up the bed, not touching Peter, stretching himself out to his side, a tantalizing gap between their naked bodies. 

Peter turned onto his side to face him and reached a hand out to trace along Juno’s jaw, down his throat, and across his chest. Goosebumps rose in its wake and he shivered. Peter moved closer, until he was pressed to Juno’s side, then he leaned down for a kiss. The touch of his lips was a relief, seeming to break the spell of stillness that was on Juno. He tilted his head back, chasing a deeper kiss, raising a hand to Peter’s face to keep him close. Peter hummed against his lips, capturing his bottom lip briefly between his teeth which made Juno arch his spine. Peter caught his right hand in his, then his left, and pressed his arms over his head as he threw a leg over his hips to straddle him. Juno panted, pressing up against all the places he was touching him and that won him a quirk of Peter’s lips. 

“Juno,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Can you be good for me and keep your arms over your head?” He nodded, eager to demonstrate his obedience. 

“I’ll do anything you want,” he said to drive home the point. Peter’s eyes fluttered closed for a second.

“Hold onto the headboard, here,” he directed gently, guiding Juno’s hands to the bottom of the synthwood piece. “And don’t let go.” He smiled again, and it made Juno’s heart ache to see it reach his eyes. 

Then Peter started working down from his wrists, down the sensitive underside of his arms, pressing kisses to his skin, nipping with his teeth here and there. He dived in to claim a brief kiss from his lips, before moving right beneath Juno’s jaw, sucking until he moaned. If there was one thing Nureyev should have learned from their night together, it was that Juno really liked having his neck kissed. And bitten. The intensity of his mouth grew as he worked down the column of his throat, until it was obvious Peter was trying to leave marks. He sucked and bit until Juno sobbed, his whole body nearly lifting from the bed except where it was held down by Peter. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wood above him. 

Peter continued down, down his chest, pausing to torment his nipples until they felt bruised. Then further down, to his hips, sucking marks into the delicate skin right above the crease of his legs. Juno’s cock throbbed, he thought he could feel hot breath against it, but Peter ignored it and kept moving down. He pressed Juno’s thighs apart with his hands and then lowered his head to set to work on the inside of them as well, his sharp teeth meeting the tender flesh and forcing the loudest sounds yet from his throat. 

Juno’s head thrashed side to side and he couldn’t catch his breath at all now, reduced to shallow pants and gasps in between moans and shouts. “Please, please,” he begged finally.

Peter raised his head from between his thighs. “Please, what, Juno?” Juno shook his head, not even sure what he was asking for.

“Anything, Peter, please.” He looked down his body at the beautiful man kneeling there. Something passed between them, something deeper than these games, something that made Juno’s insides quail. Then it was gone and Peter grinned at him. 

“What do you want, Juno?” he asked.

“Anything. I don’t know.” Juno shook his head. “I want to please you.” A corner of Peter’s mouth curled up. 

“You are, darling,” he said gently. “Very much.” Juno squeezed his eyes shut, throat choked with emotion for a moment. He pushed back against it. When he opened his eyes Peter continued, “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” He nodded emphatically. “Good.” Peter ran his fingernails up the inside of his thigh, already sore and sensitive, and Juno shuddered. 

Peter still seemed to be waiting for him, so Juno considered what he did want. He wanted Peter to touch his cock. To suck his cock. He wanted to be fucked. Yes, he definitely wanted that. But he was also craving _more._ Something popped into his head and he bit his lip, hesitating. 

“What is it?” asked Peter, picking up on his signals.

“Would you...” he began, then felt his face heat and couldn’t continue. 

“What, love?” Peter ran a hand down the outside of his thigh in a soothing manner. Juno swallowed. Then he rolled his hips over, keeping his arms in place on the headboard, coming as close to lying on his stomach as he could without breaking his grip. A hand immediately touched his lower back, stroking down the curve of his ass. 

“Would you...spank me?” he asked finally, his face hidden between his arms, pressed partly into the pillow. 

“Ah,” breathed Peter. He continued stroking his ass. “Is that it? Of course, darling, if that’s what you want.” Juno felt his whole body trembling and it was only partly from the stain of his arms holding him in such an awkward position. He felt the slide of Peter’s skin against his as he moved up his body, his breath hot along his spine. Peter came to a stop with his hard cock resting against the cleft of his ass, his lips brushing the nape of his neck. Carefully, he repositioned Juno’s arms so they were uncrossed, letting him relax all the way down to the mattress. He rutted forward just once, sliding his cock deliciously against him. “And then,” he murmured close to Juno’s ear. “When you’ve had all you can take? I’m going to fuck you.” 

Juno couldn’t hold back the wanton moan that escaped his lips, or the way his ass lifted to grind against Peter’s cock. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite like this, so desperate, needy, and yet passive. It wasn’t that he was usually domineering in bed: he thought he was a pretty considerate lover. But he’d never let someone have this much control over him before. He’d never wanted someone to have this much control over him before.

Was it about trust? Partly. He did trust Peter, more than he ever really trusted anyone. Trusted him with his life, implicitly. But this was different. This was...about letting go. He wasn’t usually good at letting go, in any context. Too many thoughts, too many worries, too much regret...but now he just wanted to feel. He couldn’t handle all the things Peter made him feel, made him want, he’d proven that back when he’d walked out of the last hotel room they’d been in. So all he could do now was turn it over to Peter and hope for the best. So far Peter was doing an excellent job of turning off the voices in Juno’s head and reducing him to incoherence. And when his hand came down on his ass in the first slap, Juno’s mind went blank again and he groaned. 

“Harder,” he begged, without shame. 

“Patience, love. We’ll get there.” Peter slid more to the side. Another blow, on the other cheek. Not hard enough, either. Then two more, still not really painful. Juno gave a growl of frustration. It cut off as Peter brought down his hand again, with a much louder sound. Then again, in the same spot, just as hard. Finally, it was starting to feel right. He sighed and squirmed his hips. Peter continued, raining down smacks of varying strength, faster and then slower. He chuckled when Juno made frustrated noises, when he rutted forward and back to increase the friction of the sheet on his throbbing cock. 

Peter switched his position, kneeling astride his legs, seemingly to get a better angle. But then, in between blows, Juno felt a new touch, Peter’s free hand coming up to cradle his balls, stroking against his perineum. And then his thumb, slightly damp, sliding up between his cheeks, to rest against his hole. He kept spanking, but now there was that new element, when Juno rocked back, the pressure against his opening. Soon the thumb was pressing harder, opening him up, barely sliding inside. 

Juno lost himself then, the last bits he was holding together. The stinging, smarting pain of the blows on his skin, the ever-deeper press of the intrusion inside him. He was entirely breathless, crying out and moaning and gasping continuously, rocking forward and back wantonly. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted as the thumb slid deeper, fucking him in earnest now, the stretch of his body around it burning, to add to the sting of his ass, the friction dancing around the line of pleasure/pain from the lack of lubricant. 

He felt entirely at Peter’s mercy, now, his nerves overstimulated and confused, nothing but a wild ball of desire and instinct. And then Peter found his prostate, pressed down and hit it, and Juno’s vision went white. He jerked forward, nearly pulling entirely free of Peter’s hands, and his shout echoed from the ceiling. “Please,” he gasped, last fragment of self-control lost. “Please, Peter, please, need you.” 

A firm hand gripped his hip to still him. “Shh, Juno, I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.” 

“Please,” he repeated. 

“Alright. But I need to go get some things,” said Peter, drawing out of him slowly. Juno gave a groan of complaint, despite knowing that was illogical. It wasn’t long before Peter was back, though, the mattress sinking under his weight. He heard the tearing of a packet and then the touch of slick fingers against his hole. He moaned gratefully as they sunk into him, first one and the quickly a second. “Peter,” he moaned, and heard an answering intake of breath from above. “Hurry,” he called over his shoulder, driving his hips backwards. 

“I’m working on it,” came Peter’s response, a touch amused, a touch annoyed. He smacked a hand down on his ass once more, which made him clench around his fingers and gasp at the feel of that. “You like that?” he said, and did it again, the slap and drive of his fingers forward coming at the same time. It was a delicious sensation, the contrast. 

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” Juno gritted out as soon as he had the air in his lungs. 

“Yes. Badly.” 

“Then do it, Peter. I’m ready.” Without any hesitation, the fingers were withdrawn, quickly enough to make him hiss in complaint. 

“If you say so,” said Peter and there was the sound of a condom packet tearing, and he suppressed a shiver of anticipation. The next thing he felt was Peter’s hands, a little cold, touching his hips. “Up on your knees,” he murmured with just a tiny hint of command, almost drowned out with tenderness. 

Juno complied automatically, hurriedly, rising up to all fours. Then he felt Peter close behind him, one hand on Juno’s hip as he pressed his cock against his opening. He eased forward carefully, pausing for a strangely silent moment, the only sound their strained breathing. Juno shifted, wanting to take him deeper, the barely-inside feel of him almost not registering properly. He wanted to feel Peter, to have no doubts he was really _there._

“Alright?” Peter asked, almost a whisper.

“Fuck, yes, get on with it,” he growled out, and heard Peter chuckle. Juno couldn’t help smiling, with his face ducked down between his shoulders where it couldn’t possibly be seen. 

“As the lady demands...” said Peter and then shoved forward hard. Juno’s vision seemed to go white momentarily, but the sound that emerged from his throat was a filthy moan, a sound of gratitude. There was only a second of hesitation before Peter pulled back and then slammed into him again, both of them grunting loudly this time. 

“ _Fuck,”_ he gasped. And it continued: strong, steady, long thrusts, all of Peter’s cock into him at once, over and over, like the blows of his hand on his ass, each one more intense than the last. Peter’s fingers dug into his hips, jerking him backwards as he thrust forward to increase the force. Juno spared a moment to hope he left bruises, perfect, finger-shaped marks. He wanted to feel everywhere Peter had touched him for a week. 

He sank down on his elbows, unable to support himself, and then things just got more intense, his spine curved as Peter drove down into him, brushing against his prostate, and then Juno was done, he was shouting and coming without ever being touched. It felt like it went forever, like he came a river onto the hotel sheets, and when it was done he was collapsed completely, borne down with Peter heavy on top of him, still inside. 

His breath was hot against the nape of his neck, panting almost as heavily as Juno. Juno continued to shudder and shiver, each spasm of aftershock passing through him making them both gasp as he tightened around Peter’s hard cock. Finally he gathered enough breath and wits to speak. “It’s ok. You can keep going.” 

With his head turned to the side he realized how close Peter’s face was. He could almost see it in the dim light coming through the blinds. A moment more of stillness, of breathing, passed and then Peter started moving again, shifting back and forth, more restrained, limited in motion by the position, but it sent fire up Juno’s over-sensitized nerves all the same. 

It felt far more intimate now, the way he could feel Peter’s breath against his skin as it was driven from him. The way his hands clutched at Juno’s shoulder and hip, not as firm, almost shaky. Juno couldn’t stay silent as the speed picked back up, he was soon whimpering along with Peter whose noises grew higher in pitch as he approached his climax. And then his hands clenched and he keened and jerked several times forward into Juno. 

Peter relaxed slowly, in bits, sinking more heavily onto his back. It made it hard to breathe, and Juno should have minded more, but instead he liked it. It felt warm and...safe. He squeezed his eyes shut and filed away the feeling somewhere in his mind. Far too soon Peter pushed up and slid out of him, standing up and stripping off the condom before disappearing briefly into the bathroom. In his absence Juno managed to roll over, out of the cold, sticky spot he’d made beneath himself, wincing at the gross feeling. 

Otherwise his head still spun, similar to the feeling after a fight, after taking some punches and walking away, like he was gonna walk into a wall pretty soon. He hurt, vaguely, various sore spots flaring across and inside his body, but the overall feeling that suffused him was warmth. His vision was a blur. Peter came back into view and he realized he hadn’t tracked him coming back into the room. He only turned to look at Peter once the bed sank next to him and a warm, wet cloth hit him.

“...Juno? You there?” Peter sounded like he’d been trying to attract his attention and he finally blinked him into focus.

“...yeah. Sorry.” Peter was washing his belly, chest, between his thighs. Something about that make his throat feel thick. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever done that. His expression was concerned, tender, way, way too kind. 

“Are you okay?” he asked carefully. Juno nodded, then sucked in air as Peter swiped the washcloth between the cheeks of his ass. 

“I’m fine, really,” he said, shifting away. Peter hesitated, but then nodded and stood back up, returning to the bathroom. Juno watched him go, taking in how beautiful he was, something he hadn’t had time to fully process this time. He wanted to watch Peter Nureyev walk naked forever. That thought was uncomfortable, so he rolled over in the bed, reaching for the covers to pull over himself. 

In a couple minutes the lights of the room switched off and then Peter climbed into bed. He pressed up close behind Juno. “Move over,” he said. “This side of the bed is all wet.” Juno huffed a laugh and complied, sliding over a few inches. When Peter draped an arm over him and slid a thigh between his, he felt his body automatically relax, and he let it. He half expected to lie awake all night, but the next thing he knew was blackness.

~~~~~

In the morning Juno blinked awake and felt a sense of loss immediately. Even before he knew where he was and who he was supposed to be with, he felt the absence in the bed. He sat up quickly, looking around the hotel room. He stopped, surprised to see Peter standing in front of the dresser, putting on his shirt.

Peter looked over his shoulder. “You should get a shower. We have to get going.” His face was blank. Polite, but impersonal. His voice verged on chilly. A bottomless pit opened up in Juno’s belly.

“Right,” he said, hand rubbing roughly over his face. He forced himself out of bed, eyes flicking repeatedly to Peter’s back. Peter didn’t turn around again or make any indication he was aware of Juno’s presence. Juno’s chest ached. He wanted to say something. He had no idea what. 

Right. He made himself turn to the bathroom. Made himself walk towards it. Through the door. Saw the damp towel and used toothbrush near the sink that were the evidence of Peter having been here first. He’d known things were unlikely to be easy. Last night...last night notwithstanding. Peter wasn’t gone this morning. He could have been, probably. That meant something, right? Maybe. 

He turned the water in the shower on as hot as he could stand and got in, turning his face to it. He let the heat wash away the stinging behind his eyes, savored the sting of what felt like a thousand tiny cuts and bruises all over. He had that, at least. Reminders, written into his skin. Where he kept all his memories. Reminders of one night. 

One night wasn’t much. It was, maybe, a beginning. It wasn’t, yet, an end.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help breaking my heart a little with these two. 
> 
> Title from my Official Jupeter Anthem: Caught Out in the Rain by Beth Hart
> 
> Feedback very much appreciated. Comments make me much more likely to ever put those other two Jupeter ideas I have down on paper. 
> 
> I have a [Tumblr.](http://kimthreerings.tumblr.com) It's mostly Yuri on Ice, but also Adventure Zone and Penumbra.
> 
> ETA: Scratch that. I've made a side blog for TAZ, Penumbra, and Critical Role because I'm trash and can't stop collecting new ships and fandoms. It's [here](http://gentlysociallypinned.tumblr.com), please be my friend.


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